


private time

by loonyloopy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6177760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyloopy/pseuds/loonyloopy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian has a peaceful moment for himself</p>
            </blockquote>





	private time

Contrary to popular belief, Dorian did have a room. He didn’t sleep in the library, comfortable chair or not. It was small but carefully furnished, huge bed and all, and displayed a great view of the looming mountains. Not to mention that every surface seemed to be covered in books and scrolls of various topics and interests. Cassandra’s Swords and Shields series was also lying somewhere between a book about Dalish history and some Fereldan bedtime stories. Sleepless nights tended to visit him on a regular basis. He’d slept far worse and far better in his life and frankly was glad for the privacy closed doors offered. Lately he’d felt a bit on the edge, like having an unexplainable itch beneath his scalp, which wouldn’t get away. Putting it into words wasn’t actually possible and there was an unyielding frustration in everything he did. Arguing with Solas about magical theory had been amusing for a while, now, not so much, because he felt his temper rising at the most mundane arguments. Was Necromancy harming spirits? Sighing, he decided that this train of thought needed to wait for another day or two.

Dorian suspected that the Inquisitor was partly to blame for him feeling a bit off. Crushing on the wrong person was a personal talent of his. Especially considering that he didn’t know, if Iesdir was even interested in men and if yes, in him. Talking would surely help but between fighting armies of demons and dragons there were running short of time to discuss feelings and personal preferences. He also imagined that that spymaster of his would nail him to a wall, if he got to close and personal with the Herald of Andraste.

And Iesdir wasn’t actually his type, if he had any at all. Far too nice for his own good.

Iesdir and his stupid optimism and the sickeningly sweet way he looked at things, how he put himself into harm’s way to protect everyone. So much naivety combined in one tall elf. Hadn’t he already earned enough scars? Dorian tried not to think about those ones on his lips and neck, about the delicate curve of ears. Archers tended to present a very handsome physique, all lite and muscled.

And he was getting hard again.

Fantastic. Thinking about the Inquisitor in such a fashion was maybe sacrilegious. Concentrating on the war was more advisable and his body was a damn traitor, far to willing to lose itself in dreams of passionate love making. He waited for the Maker to sent lightning, but as nothing happened, he decided that he had nothing better do anyway and opened his trousers. Dorian grunted and closed his fingers around his cock, put some pressure on the base, and felt it move beneath his touch. There was something very carnal about the fast rhythm, the way the tip was already wet. Iesdir’s hand would be rougher, more worn from the bow. Knuckles scared and fingers strong but nimble. Would he moan? He looked like a moaner. His thick lips around his cock, naked bodies entwined.

He was close. So close.

And the door opened with a sickening groan.

“Dorian! I found the book, which…” Iesdir stopped dead in his tracks and Dorian nearly fell of the bed. Some functional part of his brain was quick enough to reach for a blanket and cover his lap. Didn’t do much to hide his shame though. Iesdir had the grace to blush right up to the roots of his hair. With his eyes closed, he looked like being ready for a hasty retreat. Under any other circumstances he would have welcomed the object of his frivolous dreams entering his room. Preferable naked and oiled. His cock did a last desperate attempt at claiming attention and Dorian ignored the subtle twitch.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll … just… Dorian, I’m sorry. I should have knocked.” He should have. Yes. Like loud. And often.

“Inquisitor!” Was he supposed to do anything. Where was his quick wit, when he actually needed it. His head seemed very empty and the blood was rushing to his face.

“I just … I’m. Sorry. I’ll put the book on your table in the library. We can discuss it later.”

Dorian sighed and kept staring at his hands. “Yes… and I’ll spend the rest of this day reclaiming my dignity.”

“Ah, goodbye, Dorian. I’m sorry.”

The door closed and Dorian rubbed his temples, enjoying the thought of leaving the Inquisition for good.


End file.
